


A World of Fragile Things and Devil's Spirit

by LithiaDeLaSunset



Category: Avengers(film), Secret Circle - Fandom, Thor - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Romance/Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:29:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LithiaDeLaSunset/pseuds/LithiaDeLaSunset
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic meeting the promt "Meet the Parents". Set between Avnegers and AU Dark World. After the Troublesome Two (Faye & Loki) arrive in Asgard, what is the ripple effect in politics and in love? What will Thanos do about his former captive? How will two broken people that met in a prison cell so long ago convince the world to give them a chance instead of burning them at the stake?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A World of Fragile Things and Devil's Spirit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NanaAdder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NanaAdder/gifts), [thekittykatinthebowlerhat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thekittykatinthebowlerhat).



> This occurred due to a prompt from thekittykatinthebowlerhat on Tumblr, being "Meet the parents, go ahead with the smut". 
> 
> …Xxxxxxx…

**  
A World of Fragile Things and Devil's Spirit**

* * *

 

_Ch.1: Salutations_

  
"How do I look?" Faye asked, turning and eyeing her reflection in her mirror.  
"If you were showing any more cleavage, my mother will not be alone in thinking that I paid for you; and even if it were not the case, I should have to kill Fandral while he retrieves his eyes."  
"So it's perfect," Faye smirked, staring at Loki over her shoulder.

They were traveling to Asgard that night to introduce Faye to the court. He approached her, stopping just behind her. There was a little twinge of greenish light, and then her upper wardrobe pulled itself out of its severe downward plunge over her chest. Faye pouted a moment before pulling it down again, just a bit. A tsk and long-suffered yet affectionate sigh came from Loki. "Insufferable mortal."  
Faye turned to face him, straightening his clothes.

"Do you want to try that again? Because I don't think either one of us bought that," she quipped.  
"You question my authority?" He asked, face smoothing out.  
"Always," Faye smirked defiantly. "I'll never kneel. And never follow someone else's rulebook."

"Intriguing," he replied, a rare smile gracing his features. Faye tilted her head, smiling up at him crookedly.  
"Well aren't  _you_  flirtatious today," she remarked, touching his cheek briefly. "Too bad it isn't going to work today."  
"Oh, no?" He murmured, by her ear.  
"No," she smiled, stepping away and waving a hand for her jacket.

At that moment, her phone rang.  
"It's my mother," she said, unlocking it to answer.  
"What is it, mom?" Faye asked as soon as she had her cell to her ear.  
"Well, hello to you, too," Dawn Chamberlain replied evenly from the other end. "I just thought you should know that you left them around the chandelier arm this time."  
"You'll have to be a bit more specific," Faye responded, leaning against her wardrobe.  
"Your lacy  _Victoria's Secret_  ensemble," Dawn supplied after a moment of silence. A look of incredulity crossed Faye's features. She held the phone down, wrapping her hand around it to muffle her hissed exclamatory question of "I thought you said you had them?!" at Loki, who merely remained composed, if smug.

Irritatedly, Faye put the phone back to her ear. "I'll pick them up later."  
She hung up before Dawn could utter a sound.  
"You asshole," she sighed resignedly.  
"Watch what leaves those pretty lips of yours," he cautioned. "Now come, we must hurry."  
"Be careful what you ask for," Faye retorted, sashaying to the door. They walked, concealed by magic, out of the general vicinity of town. It had been almost a year and a half since Faye had moved into her apartment across town. She would have left Chance Harbor never to return already, but she remained for her Circle. Of course, she had already been given a taste of golden apple, heady and delicious, intoxicating and whispering promises long into the future. When they were all dead, Faye would reign Queen of Asgard. It was the leadership she had always craved, having a thirst for power like her mother, but she would not have to kill for it, nor would she have ever.

Down by the shore of the lake, with a spell still up to keep them hidden, his arms slid around her, tightening, and then they were rushing so fast that Faye thought it must feel like an acid trip. It left her breathless and lightheaded, with light glaring and stars seemingly twinkling, until very suddenly, they were in Asgard. She fingered the small crystal and medallion around her neck, both on the same chain hanging between her breasts. She had come a long way from being the outcast of her Circle, and feeling inadequate, and studied more magic than she had ever thought she would.

But that was before she had met Loki.

After his failed invasion, he had been incarcerated when Faye had tried a stolen spell that had landed her in his cell. She recalled helping him escape so that she could be returned home, and given power, of course, and  _that_  had led to many things...like the first time they had been together.

It had been so sudden, just after the escape; and he having to hold to his promise to teach her, had went with her to her apartment. Faye was no choir girl. At that point in time, they were still strangers to each other: there was no passion or romance between them. Faye had not been afraid of him, and had therefore seen no need to lock the bathroom door while she showered, or to close it for that matter. She didn't expect it, or the form that suddenly pushed her against the wall. There was no mercy, no giving, and she would not back down or be cowed by some arrogant display of dominance. She had once told Lee that she wasn't one of those pathetic girls that let the guy choose or decide. Of course, she was dominance and control incarnate, so that explained it a bit. She remembered it distinctly...

The water was warm against Faye's skin. It drenched her from head to toe, her long, damp hair curling around her breasts. The door creaked, and she paid it no mind...until another naked body pinned her to the wall, hand circling her wrists.

And there he was.

He stared into her eyes, not moving. He was testing her, testing her reactions and control.  
"You do not fear me." It was an observation, not a question.  
"How astute of you," Faye said sarcastically, rolling her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily. "I hope you haven't mistaken me for one of those sniveling, pathetic little doe-eyed Orphan Annies."  
A smile curved across his face, crazed and devious, and she registered faintly that he was leaning in as if to kiss her. His grip on her wrists was slack, and she yanked them free and pressed back into the wall, head tilted and eyes crisp and cool.  
"I'm afraid I don't know you very well," she said.

"But surely you have known pleasure before?" He pondered aloud, straightening. He could tell by the way she looked at him that she was not some little innocent he could take advantage of. She had the looks about her of a predator, a woman who seemed to know  _exactly_  what she wanted -and how and whom she wanted it  _from_. And he liked that. He craved that. He admired that. And right then, mortal though she was, if they were bound in some agreement, freedom for knowledge, he wanted to get  _something else_  out of it, and he would rather it be one of the strong, bold ones like Faye than some little mouse like Thor's woman that would only make him soft and weak. Faye. How fitting.

Loki licked his lips. He wanted her, wanted to lick and kiss and bite her flesh, wanted to squeeze and hold her until she bruised, to mix pleasure with pain and give her  _orgasms_  orgasms, to touch her like no one else had and where no one else would. He could feel her magic, and her determination. She could be his, if he could tame her. This was the first time in his long existence that he was unsure if something was his for the taking.

Faye could see the hunger lurking in the depths of his eyes, and of course, the lust, the thirst, the greed. The wanton want. She smirked, for she could work with this. She knew she could make him dissolve with a few simple caresses alone. Or perhaps he would be more of a challenge than Jake? But she couldn't think of Jake, not when someone else, even a psychotic alien, had that sort of a gaze trained on her that held that much intensity. He hadn't tried to touch her since she had pulled away, but he still stood very close to her, and if she stood very still, she could noticeably feel his breath on her shoulder.  
"Did you mean what you said?" He asked her quietly, with all the curiosity of a scientist.  
"That I'm not a scared little girl? What do you think?"  
"No." And here he leaned in again, brushing his hip against hers seductively, to whisper by the shell of her ear, "Were you certain when you said that you were not afraid of being alone, that you wanted no one, and that being alone was preferable to...this." On the last word, he added a slight bit more pressure into his lean, and she could feel his desire firm against her thigh. His left knee pressed against her kneecaps, but Faye would not part her legs.

"Unlike some of the people you've met, and yourself, I actually like myself, and I don't need anyone," Faye retorted, eyes flashing a challenge. He continued to hold himself still, not touching her aside from his proximity, his palms planted on either side of her. He lowered his head, blowing his cool breath at an angle so it hit her shoulder and breast, and sent a curl of chilly air over her nipple. Faye closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to keep her resolve from wavering. She should just step around him and leave, and let him take care of himself. She could always shower later. But then a thought came to her. He wanted her right then because she didn't want him. But he wouldn't force her. No true threat existed behind the mask of insanity. He was not a sexual sadist, or he would have made a move, forced himself on her, tried to rape her already. Instead, he wanted her to want him. And hadn't Faye always only wanted to  _be_ wanted? So they were much the same creature. Faye tilted her head, wrinkling her nose. He had wanted those people in Germany to kneel, to respect him, to adore him, perhaps. Faye wanted the latter, too, in a sense, and she knew they both craved power and recognition: she could see it in his eyes. He had to be hurt, and vulnerable, and his need for acceptance had obviously made him desperate. She decided in that instant what she would do.

And then she slapped Loki, hard. He barely flinched backward, but his entire face turned with the impact. He slowly turned to stare at her, and to her surprise, there, plainly etched on his face, existed some sort of even deeper hunger, but also a cloud of hurt.

"I had to be sure I was dealing with wicked witchcraft and not Santa Clause and elves," Faye said. She traced the outline of his sharp cheekbones slowly. "You're just like me," she whispered, horrified that there seemed an almost broken, bitter edge to her voice. But she allowed herself to continue. "Someone else always gets a free pass while we're burned at the stake."

Loki had closed his eyes at her touch, leaning his face into her hand. He had yet to touch her again. The wildness in Faye found a gentle tenderness in that vulnerability, and she had to fight the urge to prey upon it. Besides, she was just as vulnerable. But if he was manipulating her, she didn't care. Suddenly, she was glad that she was wanted, even if it  _was_  the alien that had tried to conquer her planet doing the wanting. All she wanted was to _feel_ , and something in the pit of her stomach said he could make her feel from the nerve endings in her toes to the roots of her hair on her scalp.

Before she could think too much about it all, she found herself pushing him roughly against the other wall, crushing their mouths together and biting his bottom lip until he bled, sucking and licking the wound until his blood swirled saltily around in their mouths, her tongue stretching forward and stroking his. He made a sound that would have been relieved whimpering in anyone else, his hands at his sides. Faye wound one hand in his hair, pulling hard at the same time she reached between them, pulling on his shaft. She swallowed his purring moan, rubbing him roughly until he was slick, twisting and jerking. He brought his mouth away from hers at last, his hands coming up once he realized he was at last wanted. One settled on the small of her back, the other sliding between her breasts. His nails dug in, and she arched her back slightly as his mouth descended on her collarbone, his teeth nicking the skin. She circled the head of the throbbing appendage in her hand with her thumb until she had him arching into her hand, his hands squeezing her hard enough to bruise, his teeth doing more than nicking and then soothing the minuscule bites over with licks and kisses and sucking. He hissed in her ear, and she removed her hand from his hair long enough to massage his pudenda.

He began shuddering as the tension built, but before he could find release, she left off touching him at all, leaving him to pulse while she kissed him, biting his neck and shoulder, a hand on his chest and one hip, holding him down before he could buck into her to make contact. She drug her nails down his sides, across his buttocks, as she momentarily took each nipple.  
"Witch," Loki hissed, glaring down at her. Faye smiled seductively.  
"What? Did you need something?" She asked innocently. "For gods' sake and by all means, spit it out."  
"Kneel," he hissed. Faye pulled away all together, only then noticing how swollen he had become.  
"Do you want to try it again? 'Cause I didn't quite buy it, did you?" She asked. A wild look came over him, then something that almost seemed similar to fascination and passion. Not being able to stop making him look like that, to unravel at her touch, to crave and want her, Faye went to him again, her knee between his legs and her hands everywhere on him, sliding over slick, wet skin and through damp hair until she had the former prince panting in her ear. He would never beg, and she knew it. Wordlessly, she reached down, stroking until he was clasping her to his chest, swearing in another language while he trembled.

After his release, they washed each other, their hands surprisingly keeping steady courses. They dried each other as well, but instead of dressing each other, Faye found herself on the countertop, legs spread and his left arm supporting her from behind as his right hand caressed her labia, parting her lips slightly. He kissed the shell of her ear as he slid a finger in, toying with her clit slightly. Another finger slid in, followed by another, moving up and down until Faye rocked desperately on his hand, digging her nails in when he attempted pulling away.  
"If I cannot make you kneel, I can always make you do this, I suppose," he noted, and if she hadn't hit the pentacle yet, she would have slapped the bastard again. As it was, he had removed his fingers with her still shuddering around them, and abruptly he had gone inside of her. Faye gasped, and Loki grunted, both still sensitive from stimulation.  
Faye shifted, and both of them uttered small choking sounds. She draped her arms around his shoulders, shifting forward and wrapping her legs around his waist, which only pulled him in further.

He enclosed her in an embrace as if he were making love to her and not fucking his debt collecter against her counter because he was experiencing vulnerability, and Faye forgot about Jake, and Lee, now that she thought about it, that night. Several times. She forgot about them on that counter, on her bed, on the couch, on the floor, and against the wall in the hallway. Loki in turn forgot about Amora and Darcy each of those times, and both of them forgot how lonely they had felt. He traced a lazy design on her hip as they lay stretched out in the hallway after the last time, still on their sides, him immobile inside of her, and her head on his chest.

"Why don't we go take a  _real_  shower?" Faye asked quietly. Loki said nothing at first, and she feared he was asleep.  
"Lo-"  
"I heard you, witch," he replied softly. Faye cupped his cheek in her palm, tenderly stroking with her thumb. She felt him relax. Gently, she said, "I don't normally hurt people on purpose. I don't know where that came from."  
He stayed silent. "You know, you can shower on your own. I won't leave while you're all sudsy. I'll be right outside."  
Still he said nothing. Sighing, Faye disentangled them. He rolled his hips to slide out of her, sitting up and turning away. Faye got up to go to her bedroom for pajamas for the both of them. She heard him go into the bathroom, moving around. When she came in, he was staring at his reflection. His eyes honed in on her over his right shoulder. He turned, and that time when their eyes met, he seemed anguished and forlorn. "Stay with me," he whispered. Faye gazed at him thoughtfully, searching his face intently. She stepped closer.  
"I still don't know you." She sighed. "All the same, I won't hurt you again." She smiled faintly. "Unless you deserve it."  
He hesitated, then held his hand out for her. Faye bit her lip, and then took it. He drew her into his arms, into an embrace, pressing her into his chest and laying his head on her shoulder.

Their second shower within twenty four hours was short, with no scenic routes or distractions. Soon, Faye had pulled a gown over her head, set the lights and turned the covers down, switched the radio on, and checked the wards. When she returned to her room again, Loki was standing by the foot of her bed wearing an old pair of Jake's pants, a hand on the post, staring out of her window into the night.  
"You know, they're made to be laid on," she remarked, coming in and settling into the sheets. He switched his gaze to her.  
"Then I'm afraid we misused it earlier."  
Faye rolled her eyes and patted the empty side. "Even crazy warlords need their beauty sleep. Lay down and stop pouting."  
Slowly, he went around the bed and sat, reclining inch by inch until he was in bed beside of her. She rolled over and fell asleep after a while, which was when he drew her closer and draped his arm over her side, fingertips holding her close by her abdomen. Faye smiled in her sleep, and Loki smiled back at her.

...Xxxxx….

Back in the present, Faye and Loki sat at a table with Frigga. The Queen had dismissed her attendants just a little while before. She smiled at Faye kindly. Faye, to her credit, kept a relatively smooth face and even complexion, considering that at intervals, Loki's hand would slide up the inside of her thigh and teasingly fondle her. Also to her credit, however, she refrained from touching back. Unless digging her nails into his thigh and kicking him counted, of course. To  _his_  credit, he kept from flinching, as Faye was using a spell so each clawing hurt more. Suddenly an attendant came in for Frigga, whispering in her ear. She stood, curtsying.

"If you will excuse me for a moment..." She hurried out. As soon as the door closed, Faye slapped his hand away.  
"You're an insatiable jackass, aren't you?" she snapped.  
"Is that what you think?" He murmured. He sat broodingly, staring at the far wall and paying her no mind.  
"I'm not a doll, Loki, for you to play with. You enjoy this."  
"Oh, only a little bit more than a lot," he quirked, his lips twitching in amusement; his eyes were still distant, and pain clouded them momentarily, as if remembering something unpleasant, and a darkness flashed across his features. His hands curled into fists, clenching until his knuckles whitened. The change frightened her. She stretched her hand out, soothingly taking his and entwining their fingers.  
"Don't think about it," Faye said firmly. Loki looked up at her. She knew that look. They both knew she meant Thanos and everything he had done. It had taken a while for him to allow her to see the long scars on his flesh from where Thanos had hurt him with fire. Even though he was no longer directly tormented in his thoughts and dreams by malicious mental attacks from the Titan, he still dwelt on his torture and incarceration.

"Jotunheim thirsts for the spillage of my blood," he whispered. "My blood brothers are ashamed of me, and their people seek vengeance for the damage I did to their crop fields."  
"They have crop fields?" Faye asked, surprised. "Isn't it a bit too chilly for that?"  
Loki scowled. "Their crops only grow in cold wether. Normal heat would shrivel them. They are indigenous only to Jotunheim, grown only by the Jotunns."

"They grow things?" Faye exclaimed softly, "As I understood it, they were all complete savages." She tilted her head downward. "Loki, have you lied to me again?"  
He stared at her, blinking slowly. "Yes. And no. They enslave criminals, debtors, and Marlfoxes. Their slaves farm, and the crown lives off of them."  
"But they have a society, even if it's twisted, and a culture. They're like-I don't know-Imperialist England or something. That thing with Earth, and when they came here...Asgard and Jotunheim are like England competing with France and Spain."

His forehead wrinkled. "Simple but effective, I supposed," he said after a moment.  
Faye observed him for a long moment, and then she looked at the door. Locks could be heard turning, and magic glowed around it momentarily.  
"Wouldn't want to be interrupted," she explained, catching sight of the raised eyebrow. She pushed the table a few inches away, hiking her dress up around her hips and straddling his lap.

"Don't think about any of that. Lose yourself," she whispered, leaning forward to kiss him. A knock came at the door.  
"Damn," she muttered sliding off of him and standing, straightening her dress, tossing her hair, and moving the furniture back into place all in the same movement. The locks clicking and sliding open with one look, Faye sat back down in her own chair. After a moment, an attendant hesitantly scurried in, glancing between them. She was young and timid, and after she had bobbed a curtesy at them both, she watched them warily.  
"Lady Frigga wishes to inform you that she has been called away, and that you are to be left free to yourselves, and that Lady Faye is free to seek her own arrangements or stay with her son."

"The current arrangements are agreeable. Now leave us. I'm quite capable of finding my own rooms," Loki snapped at the girl. Faye shot him a look, and then turned to the terrified attendant, who was frozen in place.  
"We'll call you if we need you," she told her, thawing her out, and the young one scampered away. Faye faced him, giving him a once over.  
"You've got that look," she remarked.  
Loki's shoulders straightened, and he regarded her with a bit of surprise. "What look?" He asked curiously.  
"That look that you're about to invade a small country with nothing but your tortured soul," she retorted. "I can tell when you lie about your emotions. Your mouth smiles, but your eyes don't; they scream for help. This isn't just about Jotunheim or Big-Bad-Purple-And-Ugly. Literal truth isn't being completely honest-I know, not your strong point half of the time. But you need-to tell me-the truth-now," she enunciated the last statement. He clicked his tongue, his glance more controlled the longer he beheld her until his face closed off completely.

"Anyone else saying such things would have their tongue cut out," he mused, pacing. Faye watched him, stepping towards him as he stared at the open door, his jaw clenching and unclenching.  
"You can't live in the past," Faye told him softly, touching his face. She smirked cheekily, "Especially when the present looks like me."  
At that, he chuckled, turning his head to kiss the inside of her wrist.  
"You're right, of course. At least about the latter part of your statement," he muttered.

Faye stepped back, a somewhat devious grin turning her lips up at the corners.  
"Now why don't we take your mind off of things and acquaint and reacquaint ourselves with the accommodations?"  
"Witch," he sibilated, eyes sparkling. Faye took that and ran with it.  
"I am a wicked witch. I'm a sexy witchdoctor. I am the mean girl all of those cheesy soap operas and TV series try to imitate. And you-guess who you are?"  
He tilted his head to whisper in her ear-they were by the door then, Faye with half of her body partially across the threshold. "I am your worst nightmare. I am the monster you tell your children about at night. I hurt everyone who claims to love me. And I-want-to do- _things_  to the wild witch doctor I know. Wild,  _animalistic_  things. And I want her to like them, and say my name until I've struck her senseless."  
"High ambitions," Faye dismissed, grinning and backing out of the door. "Surprisingly, I'm not impressed."  
Loki advanced towards her again, hands spread wide. "Allow me to present new evidence."


End file.
